


Out of the Blue

by captainschmoop



Category: Marvel, Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Banter, Gen, M/M, Wingfic, non-graphic loss of limb
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-19
Updated: 2013-05-19
Packaged: 2017-12-12 06:50:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/808560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captainschmoop/pseuds/captainschmoop
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony Stark has been obsessed with flying ever since a chance encounter when he was a child. He just never thought he'd be responsible for helping the reason for his obsession regain the power of flight.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Out of the Blue

**Author's Note:**

> My second claim for the [Cap-IronMan Reverse Big Bang](http://cap-ironman.livejournal.com/tag/challenge%3A%20reverse%20bang). 
> 
> Inspired by the [beautiful picture](http://lickfoot.tumblr.com/post/50735583872/my-artwork-for-the-cap-iron-man-reverse-bang) by [lickfoot.](lickfoot.tumblr.com)
> 
> Many thanks to Jen for being a sound board and Teazer for the beta. Any mistakes left are my own. 
> 
> Also, I shall state right now that there is vague science in this. Because I am not technologically inclined.

There are a very few moments in his life that Tony Stark considers life-changing, shaking his very perception of the world. One such incident occurred when he was five-years-old.

Tony didn't normally run away from Jarvis — he really liked Jarvis, and Jarvis was always willing to listen to him ramble — but he thought he could be forgiven, given the circumstance. He just didn't want to think about his mother being sick. So he had run away while Jarvis had his head turned for a split second.

And it wasn't as if Tony had run away to some remote location. He had only been five, after all. No, Tony had only run into the Icarus Reserve, a place Tony's own father funded for the local — and sometimes traveling — bird wildlife. It was a place his mother liked to visit.

He simply wandered around, not paying attention to anything and only occasionally looking up at a bird call.

Something, a branch maybe, snapped, causing Tony to stand still. Looking up, Tony's eyes widened as he saw... a man with wings. Brown wings, that seemed to stretch on forever as he landed on a lower tree branch. The man looked at him, expression surprised, and Tony was struck by the blue of his eyes; they seemed to glow.

Jarvis' calls broke his trance, and in the brief moment it took for Tony to look in the direction of the noise before snapping his attention back on the tree, the man with wings disappeared.

When he arrived back home, his mother called him into her room and asked how was his day. He responded by asking if angels lived on Earth. At his mother's confusion, he told her about seeing the man with wings in the park, even though it was only for a second.

That's when she told him about _Volucremque_. That's also when his obsession with flying started.

Tony had searched for any information he could find on _Volucremque_ — a word some crack pot scholar decided to mean "the winged" instead of coming up with an actual name for the creatures — and his findings weren't as plentiful as he had hoped. Sightings were rare, and the only reason they became mainstream knowledge was because of Captain America.

The public, at first, had thought Cap was some lab experiment suited in a flag for the war effort. They were only half right. When he was old enough, Tony broke into his father's old notes on Project: Rebirth and found out about Steve Rogers, the candidate chosen because of his wings.

But other than the odd bit of information, Tony found nothing more on _Volucremque_ , and so turned his attention to the skies itself, trying to build something that resembled the beauty and grace of the wings he had once seen. Nothing really came close, even if some of his creations did get him airborne, if only for a couple of moments.

His quest for flight — code named Project: Icarus-but-totally-better in his head — was violently shoved on the back shelf with the death of his parents. He was thrown into the workings of the business side of his father's company, learning and absorbing everything needed to become CEO when he came of age. But he never forgot his obsession with flight.

He just didn't think his first real flight would be escaping from a cave where he was tortured.

Still, at least he's gotten better at landing. And his suit is sleek and stylish. Not to mention how it _soars_. If he were allowed — Pepper would never allow it; in fact, she's kind of forbidden it — he'd fly all the time. But he's only allowed to fly during distress calls.

Like this one.

Because Dr. Doom apparently needs a new hobby. One that doesn't consist of creating Doombots that terrorize Central Park.

It's a good thing board meetings bored Tony, or else he'd be very ticked off that his plans were ruined.

The bots are relatively easy to destroy, but there are so many of them in the sky that Tony starts to get annoyed. He blasts the head off one, throws it into another one, and doesn't watch as they go down, already focusing on the next. It's only when he hears a nice sized explosion that Tony rethinks watching them fall because that explosion? Not a "mechanical parts crashing into the ground and/or trees" explosion. No, it's definitely a "crashed into something else" explosion.

Some of the Doombots nearest to him jet their way to the crash site, only to be batted out the way by someone. Someone who emerged from the crash site. Someone who's _flying_ and meeting the Doombots head on. 

"JARVIS, what is that?" Tony asks as he finishes off the four bots closest to him. 

"Sensors are picking up..." There's a pause almost as if JARVIS is uncertain, and _that_ gets Tony's attention, even as another bot draws near. " _Volucremque_ ," JARVIS says at last. 

"What?" Tony actually turns, focuses and zooms in on the new entry to the battle, and his eyes widen. Sure enough, there's a winged man flying around the Doombots. Well, more like trying to dodge. Actually, more like trying to fly. Tony's brow creases as he notices the staccato flaps, the almost drunken stagger to the flight. He takes a moment to be impressed that the man could actually pull that off _mid-air_ , but then Tony's moving, trying to lend the man a helping hand because, really, Tony doesn't like the look of his right wing nor the way the man is almost cradling it.

A sharp whistle sounds, and Tony narrows his eyes because he hates that sound; it usually meant something is going to blow up soon. Just as the HUD informs him a missile is heading in the man-bird's direction, three Doombots decide to ambush him. "Goddammit," Tony mutters, "I swear, Doom needs to get a life." He takes two bots out with his repulsors, but the third one is a cheeky little thing that hits Iron Man in the face and _leaves_.

Something explodes, a screech emitting from the smoke, and Tony turns in time to see the bird-man fall from the sky, another Doombot chasing after him.

"JARVIS," Tony mutters as he heads toward them, the AI giving acknowledgement by targeting the bot even as Tony focuses all his attention on the falling blond eagle (because that's what he looks like to Tony, what withe the brown wings and white feathers on his chest, and he thinks it's a better descriptor than _Volucremque_ ).

Something explodes above him, so he figures JARVIS did a job well done, and Tony makes sure he's blocking most of the debris from hitting the already unconscious man. Bird-man. He reaches out, gets a good hold around blond eagle's waist, and adjusts his flight path so he could drop off man-bird somewhere relatively safe. 

The HUD flashes the vital signs of his guest in red, heart rate dropping and blood loss increasing, and Tony finally notices the condition of the wing. Shit. He needs to get him bandaged or he might not live. 

"Sir, it appears the Fantastic Four are now on the scene," JARVIS informs him. 

"Finally," he mutters, changing course to the Tower. "Jarv, buddy, have medical ready to go when we land." 

JARVIS acknowledges, and Tony focuses on making sure blond eagle doesn't die in his arms, not today. He's going to have to do some serious tinkering to fix this mess. 

One thing Tony knows for sure is this guy is in for one hell of a shock when he wakes up. 

He wishes he could say he couldn't relate, but Tony knows all too well the feeling of waking up to a damaged body. 

———

There's nothing quite like jolting awake in a strange environment. You'd think by now Steve would be used to it, but no such luck. Which brings him here, in a nice plush bed in a very sleek room. His brow creases. Hadn't he been in a fight? His dreams are usually not that life-like, so how... Realization comes crashing over him when he tries to stretch his wings, tries to wrap them around himself like he does whenever he needs a moment to think, and only one fully surrounds him. Numbly, Steve glances to his right and takes in the sight of his bandaged wing, more than half of it gone.

He doesn't know how long he sits there, wrapped in his unscathed wing, looking at the wound, and he probably wouldn't have moved at all if the door hadn't opened.

The movement gets Steve's attention, and his body tenses, alert. He stays still, though, only taking in the man who entered the room through his peripherals.

"So," the man says, his hair sticking up in all directions, bags under his eyes like he hasn't slept in a while, "you're awake, Mr. Wingspan-of-627.888cm. All those feathers must get in the way most of the time, huh?" He grins, attention divided between some sort of tablet in his hands and Steve.

Blinking, Steve actually turns to the man because that was the last thing he expected as far as introductions go. "Excuse me?"

"It was a clean break, at least. I'm working on something that'll merge with your humerus. Should be able function normally, too. Looking forward to that."

"I'm sorry," Steve interrupts; it's starting to sound like this guy is continuing a conversation that Steve wasn't a part of. "Who are you?"

The man cocks his head to the side before he blinks, properly contrite. "Ah. Right. Tony Stark, at your service." He grins again, more of a smug smirk, arms outstretched slightly as he bows. 

The introduction, though, only makes Steve's brow crease even more. "Stark? A relation to Howard?"

This gets Stark's expression to close off a little. "Yeah. You knew the old man?" he asks as he fiddles with his tablet. "That's a little surprising to know." 

This subject's apparently a sore one, but Steve answers anyway. "He worked with Dr. Erskine during the war."

Stark stares, his tablet forgotten. "How do you know that," he asks, intrigued. "I can think of an explanation, but if it's true, I think I'm going to need to sit down."

Steve raises an eyebrow. "I was there."

There's a moment of silence, a moment where they just stare at each other, and then Stark says, voice flat, "You're Steve Rogers."

Steve cocks his head to the side and blinks. "Nice to meet you." He wonders if Howard talked about him. That seemed like the only explanation, seeing as the government wasn't too keen on revealing Steve's identity to the public, even if Steve found it pointless to hide. After all, how many of his kind walked around openly in the world?

"Right, well," Stark clears his throat after several long moments of silence, "you look good, you know, for being a senior citizen."

He can't really argue with that, so Steve doesn't comment. "You look familiar," he says instead, studying the man before him. 

"Pretty sure we established that you knew my dad," Stark says as he rolls his eyes, going back to fiddling with the tablet.

Steve shakes his head. "No, I didn't mean it in that way." The only family resemblance he sees was in the smirk, and it was only for a moment. "You look like the grown up version of a child I saw once." It had struck Steve when he first looked at Stark, when he saw the look in Stark's eyes. "Did you get lost in Central Park when you were younger?"

Closing his eyes, Stark takes a deep breath. He lets it out as he opens his eyes. "You're telling me that was you?" The annoyance in his voice is at odds with the glint in his eyes. "How is that possible? In fact, how is it possible that you're here to begin with?"

"Hibernation," Steve answers, deadpan, as he finally looks about the room. There isn't much to it, but it's still grander than anything he's ever had.

"You're a bird, not a bear."

Steve's lips twitch upward. "I'm not a bird. Though, some birds undergo torpor."

"Not a bird, sure," Stark mutters, typing something on his tablet. 

"Having wings does not make a creature a bird. Nor does the power of flight. Besides, I'm lacking in both at the moment." It hurts a little to admit; there's nothing like the freedom of flying. 

"Key phrase being _at the moment_. I already said I have something in the works that'll make you good as new." For emphasis, Stark shoves the tablet in Steve's lap, leaving Steve to try to decipher exactly what he's looking at, the amount of numbers and equations a little dizzying, as Stark continues talking.

"Thanks to an illegal operation I curb-stomped, I have some vibranium to play with, so, naturally, I figure why not put it to good use. Now, I'll admit I haven't done much in the way of prosthetics, but it's all mechanics, right? It'll be fine, and since vibranium is extremely durable yet lightweight, it'll be an ideal base for the skeleton. Add a cybernetic link to seal the deal, and _bam!_ You'll have two fully functioning wings again." He smiles brightly as he finishes rambling, looking pleased with himself, and clearly waits for Steve's feedback.

Steve, however, still tries to swallow the idea that he wasn't going to be permanently grounded, glancing back and forth between the tablet and Stark. "So," he begins, furrowing his brow as he studies the tablet's design, focusing on the part where Stark's mechanical wing attaches to his own, "you're saying you could construct something that would be perfectly balanced in comparison to my uninjured wing while being strong enough to propel me into the air and keep me there, all without falling apart?" 

Stark's grin widens. "Yep."

"I don't see how," Steve says, holding up his hand when Stark opens his mouth, "but I'm curious to see what you have in mind."

"Fantastic." He takes back the tablet. "You'll have to give me some time to actually work on this thing, so you might get a little stir crazy."

"I figured as much." Steve blinks. "By the way, where are we?"

"Still in New York City," he answers, distracted by whatever he's typing. He looks up when Steve doesn't say anything. "Stark Tower. By Grand Central?" 

"Ah, I see." It isn't too far from Central Park, but getting about the city in his current will be tricky, at best. "Guess I can't really go outside like this."

Stark nods, moving to Steve's side, inspecting his uninjured wing. "How were you not spotted before?"

"Hardly anyone went to the Reserve. Howard intentionally made it so it got no press." Steve watches Stark's face for any signs of discomfort at the mention of Howard, but he only continues his inspection. "And if I ever felt restless, I would just fly during the night. Plenty of cloud cover."

"And before you became a national icon?" He hums, not even glancing at Steve's face as he begins measuring the feathers. 

"I was very sickly. Scrawny, underdeveloped wings, always wrapped in a coat." Steve twitches when Stark gets a little more handsy. "I went through everyday life relatively unnoticed," he continues when Stark backs off a little, his fingers no longer digging into the bone. 

"And yet you were picked for Project: Rebirth," he points out, pausing his actions to stare at Steve, eyebrow raised.

Steve shrugs. "After seeing what happened to the Red Skull, Dr. Erskine thought someone like me would have a better chance in utilizing the serum," he says, eyes averted.

"Do you think he was right?"

"Jury's still out on that," Steve answers quietly, picking at a loose thread on his pants.

Stark doesn't move for a minute, studying Steve. "Maybe he was right then," he finally says as his hands once again settle in Steve's feathers.

"What?" Brow creasing, Steve turns his head a fraction, searching Stark's face for the meaning behind the words.

Huffing, Stark sends Steve a glance that clearly says _really?_ "You're certainly not letting anything go to your head. Maybe the doc was right." He goes back to taking measurements, muttering about Jarvis making sure to get everything right. 

Deciding to worry about this Jarvis later, Steve quietly asks, "You really think you can manufacture synthetic feathers for me?"

"Well, there's a first for everything, right?" Starks replies with a shrug, but his face is set in determination.

Steve remains silent as Stark continues to examine his feathers, inspecting each kind, concentration etched onto his face. On impulse, Steve moves his wing, letting it stand straight up and watching as Tony blinks at the sudden lost. Just as he turns to face Steve, expression confused, Steve offers him his hand. "Steve," he says, expectant, when Tony just stares at him.

Tony stares some more before he lets out a small chuckle, taking Steve's hand in his. "Tony." He shakes his head slightly when Steve lowers his wing again and continues to study his feathers. 

It's quiet in the room, even with Tony's mumblings, and Steve wonders how long he'll be here, in this foreign Tower without the ability to fly. He's gotten used to being by himself, especially after the war, and he's gotten used to not needing much to get by, even if Howard had provided nice lodgings on the reserve. This bedroom seems a little too big for him. 

"How strong are your wings?" Tony asks, breaking the silence and Steve's musings.

"They were capable of taking hits from creatures twice my size, armors included, thanks to the serum. I could also carry up to three people," Steve lists off, stretching. 

"While flying?" Tony asks, looking up in surprise. 

Eyebrow raised, Steve nods. "Yeah. Taking two is more comfortable, but I can make three work." There've been several occasions where Steve needed to push himself, but he always made it work, especially if his adrenaline is high. 

Tony hums, rubbing his chin as he raises an eyebrow at his data. "If they were that strong, why the break?" He's clearly talking to himself, something Steve assumes must happen a lot. 

Does he live alone?

"I said I was hibernating, remember?" When Tony looks up at him, Steve continues. "The reason I hibernate is for recuperation. Before the sleep, I was injured pretty badly in fight." He shrugs at the look of confusion on Tony's face; the serum enhanced him, yes, but he's very capable of sustaining injuries. "I woke up too soon, didn't heal properly before heading into the fray." He normally wasn't that rash, but he'd heard explosions and thought the worst was happening. 

"Ah, tough luck, then," Tony says quietly, getting up and stretching. "Okay, well, I'm going to start working on you're new wing, so yeah." He picks up his tablet, mumbling to Jarvis once again as he makes his way to the door. "This suite is fully loaded, so if you're hungry or want a shower or whatever, feel free to knock yourself out." 

Steve blinks at the door. Well, he can see more of a family resemblance now. Getting up, gingerly because his balance is thrown now that he's missing more than half a wing, he walks out the bedroom, whistling when he sees the size of the sitting room and kitchen. He doesn't know what to do with himself here, and he doesn't know how long Tony will be working. 

"Wonder who Jarvis is," Steve mutters aloud as he walks to the window, staring out into the city. Could it be that Tony isn't all there in the head? 

"How may I help you?" comes a voice from nowhere. 

Searching the room and finding no one, Steve purses his lips. "Are you in another room?" That's all Steve needs, a man with a microphone and camera watching him. 

"I am integrated into the building, staying primarily in the living quarters and laboratories so that I may be of assistance when needed by Master Stark and his guests." 

Integrated? "And your name is Jarvis?" 

"Yes, sir, standing for Just A Really Very Intelligent System." 

"Ah, so something out of Asimov, then?" It makes sense, given how smart he knows the Stark family to be. 

"I believe Master Stark would take offense to that, citing that I am far superior than any contraption conceived by those amateurs. His words, of course." 

Grinning, Steve walks over to the fridge. "Of course. Can't let anyone know how witty you are, JARVIS." He opens the door and pulls out the cartoon of milk. 

There's a slight pause, long enough for Steve to wonder if he's insulted the AI, before JARVIS speaks again. "It would upset most people, I'd gather." 

Steve snorts as he gets a class from the cupboard. "Secret's safe with me, no worries." He pours his milk and takes a nice gulp, sighing when he finishes. Looking up toward the ceiling, Steve continues, "So, JARVIS, are you going to spy on me while I'm here?" 

"Spy is such a strong word, sir" — Steve chuckles — "I merely keep surveillance for security purposes. However, the bathrooms are off limits, as are the bedrooms, for the most part." 

He shrugs, putting away the carton, and leans against the counter, sipping his milk. "It's fine. I'm used to people staring at me." 

"One wouldn't think I qualify as 'people,' sir." It's practically a drawl. 

"We're having a conversation. I'd say you count." Steve smiles. Maybe staying cooped up here won't be that bad. 

———

There comes a time where even Tony Stark admits he must stop tinkering and emerge from his lab. It doesn't happen often, but then, neither does meeting the object of his childhood obsession who just so happened to be his other childhood obsession Captain America. It makes Tony pinch his arm every now and then.

So out of the lab he goes, if not because he's actually pretty hungry, then because he realized he had left Steve alone in a pretty high tech tower without really explaining anything to him.

Yeah, not one of his finer moments.

He heads to the Party Deck on JARVIS' instructions — he doesn't really pay attention to where JARVIS leads him anymore because he's pretty confident that the AI will lead him to either booze, food, or the lab, and Tony likes all those things. He doesn't remember how long he's been working the wing prototype, and Bruce had mentioned he looked like crap before he ended their little video call, cutting Tony off before he could say something intelligent like "no, _you_."

When the doors to the Party Deck open, Tony beelines it for the bar, but he stops when notices Steve on the couch, pillows and blankets draped around him almost like a fort. He had a tablet in his lap.

Tony stares, debating on whether or not if he had fallen asleep and was currently dreaming. He pinches himself, and when he winces, he determines that dreaming he is not, which is weird, considering he was sure he left Steve in one of the empty suites. "What are you doing?" Tony asks as he walks closer to the couch.

"Using the Internet," Steve answers, not looking up from the screen. In fact, he burrows further into what Tony can only call a makeshift nest. 

Tony would be amused if he weren't confused. "Who showed you how?"

That actually gets Steve to look up at him, eyebrow raised. "What do you mean?" He lifts up the tablet, showing Tony that the screen displays a Wikipedia page on Disney films. "It's just point and click." He demonstrates by clicking on a link to three dimensional animation. "Though, sometimes I did get stuck on what to search for and Jarvis helped me out, but I tried to avoid that because he's kept score," he says, amused more than anything.

"And you're doing fine on your own?" Tony asks, just to make sure he's understanding correctly. 

Nodding, Steve focuses on the screen again. "Now, yeah. Jarvis might've been pouting, so I told him he could pick the movie to watch tonight. I offered to buy him something, but he declined." He smiles to himself, pulling one of the many pillows even closer to him. 

Tony's about to ask why he made a nest on his couch when he processes Steve's words. "What would you have bought him?" he asks, genuinely curious. 

Steve shrugs, sheepish, as he glances up at Tony. "Apps? More RAM? I wasn't exactly sure what he'd like, but he shut down my offer before I could really think about it." He opens another window and types something with ease, clearly used to handling the device but still bright eyed at navigating it. 

"Huh," Tony says intelligently, regarding Steve in a new light. "Adaptable. That's sexy."

"You think so?" Steve asks, not pausing in his Internet surfing. 

Tony's brow creases. "What?"

"Never heard of someone thinking adaptability as sexy before," Steve clarifies, apparently finding what he was looking for because he brings up his first window again. 

_Oh hell, I said that out loud?_ Tony nearly smacks himself. This is what happens when he spends hours on end in the lab, talking to himself. "You've obviously never met the right people then," he says instead, passing for nonchalance even to his own ears, so he's proud of himself. 

"Guess not," Steve agrees, smiling.

Whether at Tony or whatever's on the tablet, Tony doesn't know.

"So," Tony begins again because he's starting to feel a little awkward just standing there as Steve gallivants through the interweb, "I've sent off my design to a friend of mine, just to double check the biochemical component. Once I get their feedback, phase one testing begins!" And boy, that's where the fun stuff begins. 

Steve looks up, curious. "You told others about me?"

"Was I not supposed to?" He wasn't told he couldn't tell other people about Steve. Then again, he wasn't told he _could_ tell either. Whoops. 

Shaking his head, Steve raises an eyebrow, the corners of his mouth upturning. "No, it's just, won't they be surprised?" 

Tony relaxes; if that's what has Steve concerned, everything'll be fine. "Not this pair." He glances at Steve and sees confusion on his face. "Dr. Banner and Betty Ross. They have experience in dealings like this."

Steve squints at him, tilting his head slightly. "I feel like you're not telling me the whole thing."

"You're going to google them, aren't you?" Tony doesn't know whether to laugh or roll his eyes. 

"Maybe." Steve grins, opening a new window without talking his eyes off Tony. 

Tony snorts, walking over to the bar. Far be it from him to stop Steve's curiosity. He might not like what he finds, but he's a big boy; he'll deal. After all, he's already proven he's very capable on his own, dealing with and adapting to the present and Tony's own tech. 

Which is so sexy. 

So yeah, Steve will do fine. Tony's more worried about the fact that he's investing too much time on Steve and the certain _thoughts_ that the man provokes in Tony's mind. He might be getting in a little too deep too fast. He's already blown off work more than usual, and he has a feeling Pepper will show up at any minute to scold him.

The doors open, and Pepper's sharp call of "Tony Stark!" cuts across the room, and Tony curses his luck.

"Thanks for the warning, Jarv," he mutters, pouring himself a little liquid courage. He hears her heels click on the floor, death knells if he's ever heard them, and braces himself for a lecture. 

Only, it never comes. In fact, the heels stop.

Sipping his drink, he turns around and freezes when he takes in the sight of Pepper staring at Steve, both raising an eyebrow at the other.

Oh yeah.

"Hey, Pep, how's everything going?" he says brightly, wondering if she's going to notice that Steve has feathers, that it isn't one of the blankets or pillows she's seeing; if she does notice, it'll probably be amusing.

Pepper ignores him, giving Steve a once over before she frowns. "Is he not letting you wear a shirt?" she asks, voice flat, expression unimpressed.

That is not what Tony expected her to say.

Cocking his head to the side, Steve glances at Tony before focusing back on Pepper, and he shakes his head. "No, ma'am, nothing like that. It's just that shirts are a little restrictive." 

"Oh, well, that's nice to know." Pepper snorts, walking past Steve as she focuses her full attention on Tony. "I thought I requested that you refrain from shirking your duties for sex," she says drily, placing a tablet on the bar and pushing it toward him.

Panicking, just a bit, Tony glances at Steve, relaxing when he only sees faint amusement on the man's face. "First of all," he begins as he takes the tablet, "I was not having sex with Steve." At Pepper's raised eyebrow, Tony huffs. "I was not! That would be taking advantage of circumstance and result in him kicking my ass, so no thanks." Tony may be a lot of things, but he's certainly no creep. Besides, getting punched in the face is a reasonable concern.

"I wouldn't kick your ass," Steve comments from his spot on the couch, gaining the attention of both Tony and Pepper. He's wearing a slight grin that makes Tony wary. "That'd be a funny way of saying thanks for the room and board."

"Not helping!" Tony nearly squawks as Pepper whips her head around, eyes wide as she stares at Tony. Steve just continues to grin. 

Who'd have thought Captain America could be such a brat? 

To his dismay, Tony finds he likes that. 

"What's going on here, Tony?" she asks, putting her hands on her hips in that suspicious school teacher kind of way that Tony hates.

"Okay, okay, look," he holds his hands up and comes out from behind the bar. "Steve, can you stand up, please?" Pepper opens her mouth, but Tony shakes his head. "Trust me, you need see this."

Putting aside his own tablet, Steve gets up, slow and measured like he'll spook Pepper otherwise, and adjusts his footing to let his wing stretch out fully without it throwing him off balance. A feather or two falls to the floor. Steve tilts his head down, as if embarrassed, and looks at them through his lashes, the feathers on his chest puffing slightly; he's nervous. 

It takes all of Tony's willpower not drool.

Pepper stares — something Tony definitely can't blame her for because _damn_ — with her mouth slightly agape, and she takes a few steps forward, a hand reaching out in front of her before she catches herself. She clears her throat. "This is real?" she asks, gesturing to the wing.

"Yes, ma'am," he answers, watching her moments, curious. 

Nodding, Pepper clears her throat again, bumping her fists on her thighs before clapping her hands. "May I, um, you know...?" She points to his feathers, a blush on her cheeks.

Steve smiles wide and nods, angling his wing toward her, and he watches as she steps up to him, her fingers running through the lighter brown outer feathers.

She hums, inspecting individual feathers here and there. "Are you _Volucremque_?" she asks, amazement laced in her voice, as she looks Steve in the face. 

Tony scoffs. "Don't use that word." He makes a mental note to buy the rights to that word and forbid people from using it. 

She sends him a look of annoyance before turning back to Steve. She withdraws her hand and takes a step back. "So," she says conversationally, "you're not having sex with Tony?" 

"Pepper!" Tony does not whine. It's just that she's giving Steve the wrong idea. Even if Tony's entertained the thought. Several times. 

Amused, Steve shakes his head. "No, ma'am. He's just trying to help me get back in the sky."

The words confuse Pepper, and her gaze finally settles on his other wing. Her breath hitches. She reaches for the bandages, but Steve steps back, his wing curling slightly around himself. "What happened?" she asks gently. 

"Doombots," Tony answers because he doesn't like how Steve's eyes grow dull. 

"That explains why you've been ignoring me," Pepper says, turning back to Tony, her eyes narrowing. "Now, we have things to talk about." 

"Do we have to?" This time, Tony does whine because, really, who wants to be scolded outside of the bedroom? 

Pepper doesn't budge. "Now, Tony." 

"I'll give you two some privacy," Steve says as he retrieves his tablet. 

That won't do at all. "Steve, don't leave me with her when she's mad," Tony says, doing his best pathetic expression. He's been told he's good at that. 

"I just ask that you don't hurt him too much, ma'am," Steve says, barely keeping his smirk in check, "otherwise he won't be able to keep his promise."

"Don't worry, he'll be keeping it, I'll see to that. And please, call me Pepper." Pepper smiles serenely as they shake hands. 

"You're conspiring against me already? How is that fair?" He isn't upset so much as impressed that Steve has a sense of humor. 

Steve just grins as he walks away. "See you both later." He waves, and he's out the door. 

"Are you out of your mind?" Pepper demands as soon as the door closes. 

Rolling his eyes, he shakes his head. "No matter how many times you ask me that, the answer will be no," Tony replies, returning to his drink and checking out the information in the tablet Pepper brought him. 

"What exactly did you tell him?" she asks, cautious, suspicious, and Tony thinks he should be offended at her lack of trust if he didn't know all the crap he's put her through over the years. 

"That I'm working on a prosthetic prototype for his wing that should be able to function just as normally as his uninjured wing," he answers as he looks over Stark Industries' contracts and the latest proposals, okaying the ones that weren't completely asinine. 

"Do you really think you can do that? He'll be heartbroken if it doesn't work." 

"Pepper, it'll work. I've got B&B looking into it as well," he says, handing the tablet back to her. 

"They've asked you not to call them that," she chides on reflex, massaging her temple. "Look, I just hope you know what you're doing." She swats him with her tablet. "I can't believe you didn't tell me you had someone else living here! How long?" 

Tony winces. "When was that Doombot attack again?" 

She gapes at him. "You've had him here a whole week!" She looks scandalized. Probably because she thinks he's keeping Steve locked up here. Like a maiden in a tower. Ridiculous. 

"Pep, it's fine, everything's A-OK." He doesn't need her freaking out about Steve's well-being because the guy can clearly take care of himself. Everything _is_ fine. 

"Ms. Potts," JARVIS' crisp tone rings out, "Mr. Rogers would like me to inform you that Master Stark has not eaten in a while." 

Okay, maybe everything isn't fine. 

"Excuse me?" Tony asks, incredulous. "When did you become so close?" 

"I'm not sure what you mean, sir," comes the reply, and that's definitely humor in his voice. 

"Yeah, sure you don't, traitor," Tony mumbles. He makes a mental note not to underestimate Steve around his tech, _especially_ if he's gone all buddy-buddy with JARVIS; that's a dangerous combo. 

"Who is Steve, exactly?" Pepper asks, her eyes searching his face, and he can tell she knows something's up. 

"He's Captain America," Tony says with a sigh because he knows Pepper will find out eventually. She's uncanny like that. 

She doesn't say anything. She just taps her finger halfheartedly on the underside of the tablet. Finally, Pepper sighs, brushing her bangs out of her eyes, looking at Tony in that way on she can. "Of course he is. I hope you know what you're doing, Tony," she says as she leaves. 

Tony hopes he does as well. 

———

Tony goes back to being a lab hermit. 

Steve stops by every now and then with real food. 

They talk about nonsense as they eat. 

———

"I know I said I was interested in seeing what you came up with, but I'm having second thoughts," Steve says as Tony leads him to the prosthetic. He figured he'd have a little warning to prepare for the change, but he should have known Tony would just come to get him the moment he felt sure it would work. 

"You let them test an experimental serum on you," Tony points out, gesturing to a metal table next to his hopefully new wing, and Steve can't argue with that. 

"Do I need to know anything about this operation?" he asks instead, sitting warily on the table's edge. Why does he always get to be a lab rat? 

"Not really," Tony says with a wave of his hand, bringing the wing closer. "If the sync goes well, your brain will be able to control it just like it does your natural wing." He glances at Steve. "If your body doesn't reject it, of course."

"Of course," Steve mutters, eying the wing. 

Tony ignores the comment as he gives Steve a shot. "Okay, ready when you are." Tony looks like a child a Christmas, and Steve simply nods. 

The bandages come off, Tony rubbing a swab over the break area and along his humerus, and Steve stares at the floor as Tony lines up the prosthetic to his wing, waiting for something to happen. When nothing does, Steve opens his mouth to ask what's going on, but words get caught up in his throat as a blinding pain surges through him, making him grip the edge of table so hard he can feel it bend under his fingers. His left wing feels like it's on fire. 

He might be yelling. 

Blinking, the room begins to focus again, and Steve pants, shakily looking for Tony. He doesn't know how long he sat there. 

"Was a little worried there, bird-brain," Tony says, coming into his line of sight, tapping something onto a tablet before placing it next to him on the table. 

"What happened?" Steve asks, voice hoarse. Yeah, he definitely yelled. 

"Well, it looked like your body wanted to fight the intrusion, but it settled." Tony smiles, nodding to the prosthetic. "The wing took."

Steve glances to his right, taking in the sight of the blue feathers — it'll bring out his eyes, Pepper had said — and just stares. He knows they aren't real, knows they're mechanical, he can plainly see that, but it still looks uncannily close to his natural feathers. He almost believes he can move each individually like he'd normally would, and— 

The feathers move. 

He thinks about moving them again, and again they move. Cybernetic link, right. He looks at Tony, eyes searching his in wonder. All that time in the lab paid off. 

"Go ahead, give them a flap," Tony says and grins. 

Steve raises his eyebrow but closes his eyes without a word. His natural wing lifts up and stretches. The other wing rises more slowly, causing a slight crease to his brow, but it lifts all the same, stretching along with its twin. Opening his eyes, Steve blinks, a smile slowly spreading across his lips as they come down and lift back up slowly, creating a light breeze. His smile widens, and he pushes off the table, hovering a few moments before touching down. 

"Guess that means it works," Tony says, amused. "No discomfort?"

"Not really," Steve says, still testing it out, stretching and flexing, "it's more weird than anything else. Almost like it's still detached."

Tony nods, typing again. "Hopefully that'll go away once you have a real test flight."

He fidgets at the notion of _flying_ again. "Will it hold against an attack?" he asks to keep his mind grounded. 

"That's a good question. The prototype withstood blasts from my repulsors. Haven't really tested for physical resistance." Tony makes a face, probably disappointed with himself at not checking for that. 

"Try it now," Steve says as he braces himself, his hybrid wing draped over him like a shield, his natural wing spread behind him.

Tony looks at him, blinking. "I am not punching you."

"Not even for science?" There's a smirk barely hidden on his lips.

Tony narrows his eyes. "Have you been talking to Pepper?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," he says brightly. 

"Oh, yeah, sure," he huffs, hands on his hips, sighing. "Look, as much as my ego doesn't want me to admit it, my punches aren't nearly as powerful as the ones you're used to getting. So, yeah, don't think I'm the one to do the testing."

"You should try anyway. Besides, you're not supposed to rush right into the heavy lifting after an injury." Steve bounces a little, gesturing for Tony to hit him. 

Tony rolls his eyes. "Fine, fine, Mr. Hardhead." He puts up his fists, eyes checking Steve's before he rears back and lands one in the center of the blue wing. They stay like that for a several seconds before Tony clears his throat. "Feel anything?"

"Not really," Steve answers, standing straight and stretching the wing again. 

"Told you," Tony mutters, crossing his arms over his chest. 

It makes Steve smile. "No, I meant I felt no discomfort. I felt your hit."

"Ah," he says lamely. "Anyway, just keep flexing every now and then, get used to it, then we'll take it outside for a flight test." Tony pulls up a screen and begins recording and transferring data from their experiment, probably sending a copy to Dr. Banner. 

"Can't we do that now?" Steve say, totally not whining as his wing flap twice, every part of him itching to get into the air. 

Tony glances at him, eyebrow raised. "Whatever happened to don't rush right into the heavy lifting?"

Steve ducks his head, a sheepish grin on his lips. "Sorry. It's just been a while since I've flown." But even now, he can feel the chill of the wind as if he's just landed from a midnight flight. If there were ever a time Steve felt homesick, this would be it. 

"Yeah," Tony breathes, a distant look in his eyes, "I know that feeling." He shakes himself and gives Steve his best stern expression. "But no flight tests just yet. Both Pepper and Bruce will yell at me if you get hurt all because we weren't patient." 

"Tony Stark, patient?" Steve grins. 

"Shut up." Tony sticks his tongue out. "And don't even think about sneaking flights around the Party Deck because JARVIS is under strict orders to make sure your ass is grounded." 

"That's no fun," Steve complains. "Not even my superior offices could ground me." 

"My apologies, Mr. Rogers," JARVIS says sweetly, not sounding sorry at all. 

"How does it feel to have JARVIS against you?" Tony asks, triumphant, once again absorbed in his data. 

"Ha ha, funny," Steve says with an eye roll, but he smiles. He walks over to Tony, amused by the fact he's unnoticed, and encircles his wings around Tony, trying not to chuckle when he yelps in surprise. 

"Steve?" Tony calls, voice unsteady, tone unsure, as he turns slightly in Steve's embrace. 

Shaking his head, Steve rests his forehead on Tony's shoulder, his wings pressing them a little closer. "Thank you," he murmurs, his arms lightly wrapping around Tony's waist. He hears Tony swallow. 

"You're welcome," Tony says quietly, placing one hand over one of Steve's wrists and settling his other in Steve's natural feathers. He relaxes against Steve. 

Smiling, Steve closes his eyes, feeling at peace. 

———

Tony naturally freaks the hell out and avoids Steve for an entire day. 

The only reason he stops is because Steve corners him in the lab and hugs him again — wings and all. 

And then the bastard kisses him. 

But the kiss is fucking fantastic, so Tony decides to freak out later and enjoy the now. 

And he does. A lot. 

———

"You know," Tony begins casually, and Steve knows what's coming, "you fight dirty." 

"You're just pouting because I kissed you first," Steve say, grinning as he shakes his wings gently, getting an indignant huff for his efforts. 

"Sit still or I'll stop cleaning out your old feathers," he says firmly, but his hands return to their task. 

"I didn't ask you to. You kinda just made me sit here," Steve says, amused. He sits crossed-legged on the floor of the Party Deck, his wings spread wide. He was pleasantly surprised when Tony voluntarily sat behind him and took over cleaning, muttering about molting being annoying. 

"Don't make regret not freaking out about the fact that you like me, okay." Tony continues running his fingers through the wings, catching loose feathers and letting them drop to the ground. His hands move closer to Steve's shoulder blade, causing him to shudder. "Sensitive, Mr. Rogers?" Tony asks, voice nearly purring. 

Smirking — two can play that game — Steve pitches his voice low and asks, "Want to find out?" He laughs when he feels Tony freeze. 

In retaliation, Tony presses the heel of his hand into Steve's shoulder blade, rubbing hard into area, causing an embarrassing noise to leave Steve's mouth. "You shouldn't tease an engineer," Tony sing-songs. 

Turning, Steve wraps his natural wing around Tony, leaning into his space, lips close to Tony's. "Who says I was teasing?" he whispers. 

Tony licks his lips. "I must have done something seriously amazing in a past life." He then steals a kiss. 

An alarm sounds, and Tony groans, breaking their kiss and resting his head on Steve's shoulder. "Of course bad guys pick now to cause trouble."

"I can come with," Steve offers, running his fingers through Tony's hair. 

Sighing at the touch, Tony shakes his head. "Pepper will kill me," he says, untangling himself from Steve and getting his bracelets. 

"It's been three days without any incident," Steve counters as he stands as well. 

"JARVIS, make sure he stays on the ground," Tony says as he blows a kiss at Steve, getting an eye roll in response. Grinning, Tony says, "Deploy," and then he's suited up and in the air. 

Steve sighs, turning on the TV to see if the news is covering the story; if he can't be there physically, he can support Tony in this way. 

It takes the news stations nearly thirty minutes to cover Iron Man's, and Steve calms himself by telling himself that it mustn't be that bad a fight. The moment the cameras focus on Iron Man, though, Steve's worry comes back full force as he sees how beat up the armor looks. The camera pans out and shows Iron Man's repulsors taking out the last of whatever bad guy he'd been facing, but not before letting loose an array of missiles.

"JARVIS," Steve says, panicked, as he watches Iron Man take several hits. 

"Master Stark is—" 

"JARVIS?" Steve calls, unnerved by the abrupt way the AI stopped talking; it's almost as if the air was knocked out the AI's lungs. 

"Communication with the Mark VII has been severed, and emergency systems are not responding," JARVIS informs him. "His heart rate has elevated."

Steve's stomach drops, and he watches Iron Man stagger downward before dropping out of the sky, falling toward the awaiting river below. 

Grabbing an earpiece and shoving it onto his ear, Steve runs out onto the deck and jumps, ignoring JARVIS' warnings about inappropriate flight tests. Taking a deep breath, he spreads his wings and pulls up, relieved they hold against the wind and his fall. He waits no time in accelerating, heading to the coordinates JARVIS gives him. 

"JARVIS, is my wing water proof?" Steve asks, feathers fluffing in anticipation. He doesn't know if Tony can breathe in the suit if it's underwater, especially since JARVIS said his emergency systems were unresponsive, so he doesn't want to delay his entry to the water. 

"Yes, but I strongly advise against trying to lift the suit as we haven't properly tested the endurance of the prosthetic or —" 

"No time like the present," Steve says as his eyes locate Iron Man's form in the water, and he dives, taking deep breaths and bracing himself for the water's surface.

It isn't the easiest breach, but a quick check tells Steve his wing made it, and he begins swimming toward Tony. Getting a good hold around the suit's waist, he uses his wings and legs to fight his way to the surface, gasping when he makes it. Several more deep breaths later, Steve pulls Iron Man into the air, praying that his wing holds. 

"JARVIS," he gasps, holding onto the suit tighter, "you still there?" 

"Yes, sir. Your recklessness can match Master Stark's." 

He lets out a surprised laugh. "Noted. Now, do I need to get the faceplate off?" He's getting a little tired, being out of commission for so long, but he resolutely flies toward the Tower. 

"No, sir. His breathing is evening out, as is his heart rate. Please get him to medical. My sensors are showing no serious injuries, but he has sustained cuts and bruises." 

"You got it," Steve acknowledges, picking up speed. 

Once in the Tower, Steve gets Tony to medical and, with the help of the robots, gets the armor off of him. Tony breathes deeply, eyes blinking as they try to focus. He stares at Steve. 

"You flew, didn't you?" 

Shaking his head, Steve gently pushes back Tony's hair. "Yeah, I flew, and I'm fine. How are you?"

"Peachy," Tony says as he tries to sit up, wincing. "Those guys were short lived but fucking vicious."

"Language," Steve chides, retrieving the first aid kit. 

Tony huffs. "You don't get to scold me. You were supposed to be grounded." He allows Steve to fuss over him, though, so Steve knows he must be tired. 

"You should probably get over that because there was no way I would've sat still while you drowned," Steve says, matter-of-fact, as he begins cleaning Tony's cuts. 

Tony remains quiet as Steve treats him, his hands idly running through Steve's feathers, content with how the wings encircle him. When Steve finally closes the kit, Tony tugs lightly on his wings. "Thanks," he says quietly, eyes searching Steve's, worried and grateful and bright. 

Smiling warmly, Steve gingerly brushes his forehead against Tony's. "You're welcome." He steals a kiss, smiling a little wider when Tony follows him as he moves back. "Time for you to rest now." 

"I have a better idea," Tony says, smirking mischievously as he runs a hand down Steve's chest. 

Raising an eyebrow, Steve pokes Tony in the ribs. 

"Motherfu—" Tony hisses, wincing as he bends over slightly. 

"As I was saying, rest," Steve says, triumphant, and he picks Tony up bridal style, careful and gentle. 

"You're fighting dirty again," Tony grumbles, letting himself be carried. 

"Yep," Steve agrees cheerfully, unrepentant. "And I'm calling Pepper after I tuck you in."

"Ugh, I hate bed rest." Tony rests his head on Steve's shoulder, though, nuzzling slightly. 

Steve smiles. "If you rest up properly, we can have more fun afterward." 

"You better not be teasing me," Tony warns, sending him a glare. 

"Would I ever do that?" Steve asks with a grin, chuckling when Tony rolls his eyes, and places a kiss on his forehead. 

The future's looking bright.


End file.
